


after hours

by lenticularprint



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 22:39:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17010483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenticularprint/pseuds/lenticularprint
Summary: Self-contained prompt fills and miscellany. Someday these may turn into longer fics, but someday is not today.





	1. in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Ill-advised blowjobs"

"Jesus Christ...  _Fuck_." He sags against his desk, panting. His hands are still shaking, and he works not to let his knees go.  
  
He can't see Adam's smile in the darkness, but he can hear the barest huff of a laugh. There's a brief, warm weight on his thigh, and he feels the push of Adam's nose, a hint of beard, before it's gone.  
  
He manages, "When you said you could see in the dark... this wasn't what I meant."  
  
Adam's voice is still rough. "Auxiliary power's coming on in eight minutes. Macready's already gotten through to the techs. Wasn't much else I could do." There's the slightest glow, a hint of gold down by Jim's knees, and he realizes Adam's looking up at him. "I got the glowsticks out."  
  
He's still trying to breathe. "And we know it wasn't sabotage... Lower floor's still got light?"  
  
Adam hums an affirmative. Then there's the rustling of clothing and the sound of a zip.  
  
Jim says, still breathless, "Thanks." He swallows. "Of all the places you could've gone, why'd you - ?"  
  
He hears wool and leather, and the air shifts, until there's a very warm, very strong aug against him. He hears Adam's hands fall next to his on the desk. "Just wanted to say hi."  
  
"Hi," Jim says faintly, looking into the dim glow of gold irises. He can just about make out dark lashes.  
  
"Hi," Adam echoes, and his smile's audible.   
  
Jim feels him lean forward, and then there's a hot mouth against his, and despite the taste of what Adam's just been doing, it's... oddly tender. Adam kisses him every time like it's the last time - often not with frenzied desperation, more like that slowness. Adam kisses, still, like someone who's not used to pleasure and wants to make the most of it while he's got it. That Jim can understand. He reaches to cup Adam's face, his other hand straying down to touch the small of Adam's back and press him closer, feeling hot skin under the sweater.  
  
He lets himself have it for a moment. Then he pulls away to say, "The minute the lights come back on, people are gonna know what you've done."  
  
"I don't know. I'm pretty subtle."  
  
"You are  _not_  using the cloaking aug to sneak out after..."  
  
He feels Adam grin, sharp and wolfish, against his cheek. "Who says I'd need to cloak?"   
  
Jim snorts, and honestly isn't sure whether he wants to kiss the idiot or kill him. He settles for the former, and presses his mouth back to Adam's, letting Adam crowd him against the desk until his world is warm metal hands, hard muscle, the smell of leather and a little hair gel.   
  
In the dark, it's easier to forget. Realer. For a second, he's not letting Jensen, his best agent and a royal pain, kiss him senseless; he's letting Adam, who drinks shit coffee and thinks microwaving soup is breakfast and falls asleep curled round him like he's something worth protecting, do it.  
  
Then Adam draws back and says, "I just wanted to stop by. I've got that investigation over by..."  
  
"I know." Jim says it with a sigh. "I know you won't be in for a while. Just... let me?" He shifts his hand until he's finding Adam's belt, and metal rings out as he unbuckles it. He slips his hand under Adam's waistband.  
  
Adam inhales sharply, and curls in, his nose against Jim's neck, hips shifting to press himself into Jim's hand. "Six minutes," he warns.  
  
Jim snorts. "You think you're the only one who's ever snuck around?"


	2. the hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: "love bites that are very visible the next morning/fully clothed frottage"

He's usually more careful about this sort of thing. But it's been a long Friday, and he's leaving to have a rare drink with a friend, and he doesn't think when he pops his collar and rubs at his neck.  
  
He only stops and pauses when he notices Mac staring at him. Or rather, at a spot somewhere above his collarbone. And next to them, Adam's eyebrow has shot up so far it's visible over the shades, and his shoulders are abruptly tense. 

Somewhere behind them, a door swings open and shut. Probably someone working late, trying to be inconspicuous as they go into Praha Dovoz. But their little part of the street is silent enough that the sound echoes.  
  
"What?" he says, a sinking embarrassment starting in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"Busy night?" is all Mac says, eyebrows still raised.  
  
Jim suddenly remembers. The dark marks where -   
  
( _Adam flushed and panting hot against his neck, hips grinding desperately against his, and fuck, the couch was not made for this. He's not sure_ he _was made for this._  
  
_He swears this was just meant to be a "thank God you're not dead" talk. He was going to... to say something. To talk about how damn close that mission was and how Adam really should start acting like he's a man, not a tank. The kind of thing he could call an informal debrief, not -_

 _He's still in his living room, for God's sake, and he hasn't even got his shirt off - but he has six feet of handsome man on top of him, and Adam's kissing him like they're dying, again. This has to be a mistake. Hell, the first time was a mistake, this is... Jim would wonder if he was going nuts, but he's pretty sure madness isn't meant to feel this good._  
  
_He should care about the backache he's going to have from this, or the possibility of ruining this suit. He really, really doesn't._  
  
_He runs his hand through Adam's hair, rubs his thumbs over Adam's beard, and raises Adam's head to look into those dark eyes, wild and so painfully human even though they're augmented. Adam opens his mouth, hesitates. "Jim, I - "_  
  
_Jim kisses him. "Don't fucking die on me," he mutters. Then he gives a swift, brutal thrust of his hips and tugs Adam closer._

 _Adam's hips buck and he makes a hoarse, startled noise, eyes fluttering shut. Jim swallows it with another hard kiss and feels Adam moan._ _There's a whirr of servos, and Adam tenses, tight._

 _Then Adam's attempting to fuck him through the couch even though they've both got their pants on, and he meets it with the same white-knuckled desperation. Adam pants against his mouth and then drags kisses against his chin, his throat. The scrape of teeth and Adam sucks at his neck, and Jim's head falls back as he gets a hand in Adam's hair and drags him closer -_ )  
  
Adam was careful. This one's all on him.   
  
He remembers waking to an empty bed and then looking in the mirror. Stopping and staring, hands absently following the trail, red and purpling against his neck, his chest. Nowhere he couldn't hide them under clothes, but... God, it's been a long time since someone did him over like that. Not since before his marriage. It's been even longer since he allowed it. Too many locker rooms, too many command positions. And Christ, he's never had someone who could manhandle him. Not like it was easy.

He remembers trying not to think about it and failing. Getting off in the shower with a hand pressed to the tender skin at the junction of neck and shoulder, knees nearly buckling, and wondering how the fuck he was meant to look Adam in the eye after this.   
  
Mac usually enjoys a personal-life conversation about as much as a kick in the balls. The marks must be bloody obvious, or Mac wouldn't have said anything. If he could've brushed it off, he would've.  
  
Jim swallows, heat rising under his skin. He swiftly buttons his shirt again. "Yeah. You could say that."  
  
Mac grunts. "At least one of us is getting some." He sighs. "Jensen, you splitting off here, or...?"  
  
Adam opens his mouth, takes a second to respond. Even with the shades, Jim knows exactly where his eyes are. Something crosses his face, and Jim prays Mac will just assume it's the sheer fucking awkwardness of thinking of your uptight boss having sex.  
  
Not the truth. Not that Adam's thinking of leaving those marks and nearly breaking Jim's boring modernist furniture. Or crawling exhaustedly into bed with him afterwards, warm against his side like some kind of aug hot water bottle.  
  
Adam swallows. He still sounds a little distracted. "I... uh. I should get back. Early start tomorrow."  
  
Mac nods. "Yeah, _very_ early. You owe me a report on why you punched that Norwegian in the face."  
  
It says something that Adam's barely sarcastic back. "He was a Norwegian merc _._ " He sighs, and nods. "MacReady. Sir."  
  
Jim nods back, and tries to speak through his suddenly-dry throat. "Get some rest."  
  
Adam's barely looking at him, and underneath the shades and the remoteness, there's a pinkness to his cheeks. Then he swiftly turns and starts the journey to the station.  
  
Jim inhales, and tries his best not to watch him go. To wonder what the hell that means. If his luck's good, Mac will be the usual mix of uncommunicative and uninterested.  
  
"I didn't think you were the type to go and get your rocks off," Mac says, later, with genuine surprise and what sounds like... a little worry, even though he tries to hide it.

Jim guesses his luck's about the usual. He looks into his drink. "That's because I'm not." He looks up and says, voice sharp, "I didn't think you were the type to _lecture_."  
  
Mac raises his hands. "I've got no problem with that! I'd be a bloody hypocrite, for a start. I just didn't think casual was your..." He waves an awkward hand, and he almost looks like he's about to pull out the _sir_. If he does that, Jim's getting up and leaving. "...Thing."  
  
Jim just drinks so he doesn't have to say anything, thankful he's never been much of a blusher. (Adam, on the other hand - No.)  
  
"Wait." Mac leans forward, frowning. "Hang on. Are you seeing someone?"

"Christ, try and sound more surprised," Jim snaps. He winces and rubs a hand over his forehead. "I don't know. It's... Look, it doesn't matter."

Fuck. _He saved my life and we both keep nearly dying and I almost fucked him over my desk once. Is it a mistake if you keep doing it and it feels like the best thing that's happened to you in about two years?_  
  
"I just thought, since the divorce..."   
  
Jim just looks at him, jaw clenched, and Mac shuts up.  
  
They return to looking over the bar, in loud silence, and then Mac takes a heavy drink and says, "Can you blame me for wondering?"  
  
Jim glares back. "Yeah. Yeah, I can."  
  
"I just thought you were getting some sleep. Or maybe that he'd finally given you the last of the paperwork. Whatever it was... And then you come in looking like a vacuum cleaner's had a go at you. Whatever's gotten into you, it's working."  
  
Jim can't help it; he snorts.  
  
Mac winces with his entire body. "Not like  _that._  Fucking hell." He takes a heavy drink. "All right, I get it. I'll butt out."  
  
Jim closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm not an idiot, Mac."  
  
"Didn't say you were. I remember when you helped me take down that Dvali smuggling ring, the third month we were working together. You're a lot smarter than me. I just... you deserve not to get fucked around, all right? You nearly  _died._ "  
  
Jim just stares, unsure whether to be touched or bloody worried. Or whether to tell Mac to fuck off and worry about his own torpedoed love life. The latter would be easiest. Jim sighs, and looks into his drink. "Whatever it is, he's... he's a good man. Not the type to screw around. We're both too tired for that."  
  
When he raises his head, Mac is just watching him. "I almost believe you." He takes a swig of his drink. "Right." He exhales. "Can we talk about rifles now?"  
  
Jim snorts, and winces. "Please. Unless you want me to start on the Stolichnaya."


	3. give and take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "not reciprocating oral sex"

"Fucking hell, Adam," he pants.  
  
Adam huffs a laugh at that, pulling himself up to look Jim in the eye. He still seems a little surprised when Jim drags him into a deep, slow kiss - but then he warms, settles into it, and Jim feels him smile slightly. Jim looks down, hand straying down Adam's side...  
  
"I'm good." It's more of a breath than words. And Adam usually sounds like he's crawled out of someone's bed and smoked a pack of cigarettes, but now it's... It gets even more that way, after this. Or when he's so turned on he can't think straight.  
  
Jim remembers the noises Adam made around his cock and the way Adam looked like he was fighting not to hump the mattress. Raises an eyebrow at where Adam's still enormously, painfully hard. "Good, are you?"

And it's not that he would mind - everyone gets tired, especially in their line of work, and sometimes you're just not in the mood - but this is far from the first time. And he's spent long enough pretending not to notice, hoping it would get through to Adam eventually. (Sure, a good amount of the time they both get off. But he's spent too long watching Adam evade offers and fall asleep next to him. Or, just once, Adam found some pretext to excuse himself to the bathroom. Jim listened to the soft, gasping breaths Adam was doing his level best to hide and wondered if the problem was him, but judging from the way Adam kisses him or practically seems to dive between his thighs headfirst, or looks at him sometimes when they're alone, dark eyes not shifting away fast enough... He's not the problem here.)  
  
Adam glances away, tensing. There's just a hint of colour in his cheeks. Jim thanks God that they're not in the office. Not just due to the sex - he has the feeling the shades would be well and truly up now. Adam mutters, "You don't have to - "  
  
"Yeah, I do."  
  
Adam sighs, like he's the one being ridiculous here. "Jim."  
  
" _Adam._  I'm not... someone paying on a corner for the boyfriend experience." It comes out too harsh.  
  
Adam almost - almost - hides his flinch. Shit.  
  
Jim winces, too. "I didn't - I didn't mean it like that. What do  _you_  want?"  
  
Adam swallows, jaw working. "I, uh." And he glances down at himself, like Jim's just launched into German and he can't comprehend the question.  
  
Jim follows his gaze. He says as it dawns on him, "You still don't understand, do you?"  
  
Adam looks him in the eye, at least, if just to frown.  
  
Jim kisses him again, feeling his surprise, and slides a hand down his arm. "I can't keep my hands off you," he admits, rough. He lets his fingers come back to warm skin, slides his hand down Adam's back to bring him closer. "Christ, you're - " He cups Adam's hand, and kisses a metal-polymer palm. Damn it, his own hands are trembling. Probably due to his sentimental, stupid -  
  
Adam blinks, brow furrowing. Swallows. "Huh," he says, surprised and sceptical. But there's something softer there now.  
  
Jim admits roughly, "It's hard to concentrate in meetings when I'm thinking of how much I want to suck you off." He grabs Adam's arse and presses them together, skin to skin. Adam makes the softest, cut-off little sound, hand shooting out to catch himself, and Jim finishes, "Or do that."  
  
Jim's hands run down Adam's chest, smooth down Adam's sides. He watches Adam tense and try not to arch into the touch, muscle jumping under pale skin. He kisses Adam's neck. Says into Adam's ear, the words tripping over themselves, "Anything. All of it. You're..." He inhales.  
  
Adam make a noise that's nothing like a real laugh. He says quietly, with a bitter twist of his mouth, "Except for the augs, right?"  
  
"No."  
  
Adam stares at him.  
  
Jim drags him down to lie against his side. "The first time I saw you, I thought..." Jim brings his mouth back to Adam's neck, kisses skin and metal both. He pauses, and snorts. "I thought,  _Fuck._  And that was before you saved my life. Couple hundred people, too." He scrapes a night's worth of stubble against Adam's jaw, past the beard, and Adam bares his throat. Jim kisses his chest instead, fingers straying to Adam's shoulder. Adam shivers, even as he tries to keep still. His heart's pounding; it may be artificial, but it still is. Jim adds, "And then you got your clothes off..."  
  
At his silence, Adam looks down and says, with a surprised laugh, "That good, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," Jim says. Firm, no trace of a joke in it. "That good."   
  
Adam swallows thickly. Says, like gravel, "Uh... touch me?"

" _Jesus,_  Adam. Course."  
  
He doesn't know how Adam moves so fast. Probably the reflex mods. But suddenly Adam's next to him and he's being kissed deeply, desperately, Adam's mouth pressing hard against his and beard scraping against his chin. An augmented hand wraps round his, guiding it to Adam's cock. At the first touch of his hand, Adam shudders and makes a bitten-back little sob, cock twitching. Kisses him harder, metal thumbs stroking over his face. Relief's written in every line of his body.

Jim gives him a gentle stroke, just a start -

And then Jim's on his back and there's a trembling aug on top of him, panting against his neck. Adam comes fast enough he looks embarrassed, but Jim just strokes him through it and thinks,  _Better._

When Adam sags and gives him a sheepish half-smile, still breathless and with all the tension gone out of him, bright-eyed and not looking much like an augmented killing machine at all, Jim thinks,  _Yeah. Definitely better._


End file.
